Reflections of things to come, mirrored in the deadOne's eyes my fantasy of murderIncarnated open wounds gushing,Blood on skin coagulated tortured of the retched,No one cares of their dead appalling odor wreaking, piles of rotted bodies

The bodies prepared for slaughter, wallowing in your own bloodGrinding of your fingers and toes feeding on your meatI immerse my sharpened implement into a fresh bleeding gashHer body used for my sick desiresThe blood thirst I can't controlMany more must sufferDisposal of the dead, the corpse chopped to bits licking up the drivelThe gore enrages meAll I kill a new creation, my work of art bodies torn apartLiver quivering at my feet

Eyelids cut off to watch your own dismemberment,Cutting through arteries nerves exposedFeel the power of pain